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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23711392">On Nights Like These</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/nameless_sovereign/pseuds/nameless_sovereign'>nameless_sovereign</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Our Memories [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Gotham (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Post-Laughing Toxin Jeremiah Valeska, Sad Bruce Wayne</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 21:00:57</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,056</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23711392</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/nameless_sovereign/pseuds/nameless_sovereign</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Bruce Wayne has a hard time coping with the loss of his best friend, or maybe Jeremiah was more than that?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jeremiah Valeska/Bruce Wayne, Joker (DCU)/Bruce Wayne</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Our Memories [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1693042</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>41</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>On Nights Like These</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Bruce hated himself for nights like this. Nights were to make himself feel better; he had to hold tight to his phone watching videos of Jeremiah Valeska and him. He tried so many other things; he tried everything that didn’t make him turn to Jeremiah to feel better. He tried breaking things, throwing the glass kitchen plates against the wall. He tried alcohol, and sex. He tried screaming at the wind, and fighting anyone who crossed his path as he took walks in the most dangerous part of Gotham City. He tried just accepting the feelings, but it only made everything that much harder. It made him miss him so much more. </p><p>He wished he could just be what Jeremiah wanted. Bruce was sure he would do anything, be anything, to have him back, but he couldn’t, yet Bruce could never be what this Jeremiah wanted, because he knew what his Jeremiah would think. His Jeremiah would be disappointed. His Jeremiah would say that he was better than that, and that no version of him was worth what Bruce would have to sacrifice. What his Jeremiah didn't understand was that Bruce would sacrifice everything for even the slightest bit of Jeremiah. </p><p>Bruce buried himself in the thick covers. His phone was cold and fogged up from his warm breath making the images, and videos blurry, but he knew them all so well now. He had memorized each detail. Every pixel and sound ingrained into his mind. His favorites were the videos where the two were tired and Bruce was draped over the edge of the chair videoing Jeremiah laughing at whatever was funny that time. Oh what he would give to hear it again. That soft laugh that Jeremiah shared with so few people. The laugh that made anyone who heard it want to melt. The images of his and Jeremiah’s face pressed next to each as fake star freckles were placed over their cheeks. Silent tears wet his pillow as he remembers what could have been. This video was his favorite. He hated it so much though. It made his heart scream in pain. </p><p>Bruce watches the painful series of images as chills scrape against his skin, as choked sobs echoed in the silent wing of the house. His parents were gone. Alfred was gone. Selina was gone. Everyone was gone. Except ‘Miah. Jeremiah was both gone and present. Which only made it that much more painful. Jeremiah was his last shred of sanity, as ironic as it sounds. His heart aches every time it sees him, because he is so close to how he knows him to be, but it’s not him. Skin too pale. Lips too red, too bloody. Mind too insane. Yet he’s the same. Same voice. Same gentle touch as if he feared truly breaking him. Same frightened look in his eyes when he thought Bruce was walking away. </p><p>“Bruce!” The whine left Jeremiah’s lips as Bruce flipped the camera around to face him. Jeremiah’s hand instinctively came up to block his face from the camera. Bruce never posted any of his videos, they were just for them. Jeremiah’s wide smile, and gentle laughter was clear to hear without seeing his face. </p><p>“Come on, ‘Miah, it makes you a pretty princess!” Bruce giggled as Jeremiah pouted, and Snapchat added the over the top makeup and a tiara with a magic wand. He turned the phone around, so Jeremiah could see the finished project, “Look how adorable you look.” Bruce gushed, and saved the video. Jeremiah’s cheeks flushed. More than they were already. </p><p>Both had had a couple drinks of alcohol. It took a little convincing for Jeremiah to be okay with drinking with him since he was technically underage, but when Bruce taunted just going to one of the clubs he owns, Jeremiah agreed. Bruce assumed it was just because Jeremiah was protective like that, and Jeremiah told himself that was it too. The truth is that Bruce would never have gone back to the nightclubs, and it wasn’t simple protectiveness that made Jeremiah suddenly agree to drink with Bruce, it was jealousy, as simple as that. The two have talked about when Bruce was into the party scene, of how he tried to surround himself with dozens of people to not feel alone. Now, the only time Bruce doesn’t feel alone is with Jeremiah.</p><p>Bruce plopped himself down next to Jeremiah, a nice bubbly warmth not making him thinking clearly as he turned the camera around so that the filter was now adding flower crowns. Bruce had his face pressed against Jeremiah’s face to fit in the screen. He pressed down on the recording button.</p><p>“Look at how cute we are!” He beamed as Jeremiah turned so his nose was squished against Bruce’s cheek.</p><p>“I look-”</p><p>“A-dork-able.” He cooed and kissed Jeremiah square on the lips. Jeremiah jerked away, not expecting that, before leaning forward again and tangling his hands in Bruce’s dark curls, as Bruce dropped his phone and moved his hands to gently cup his cheeks, smiling into the kiss. Their first kiss, but not their last one. </p><p>He pressed a hand to his lips as a broken sob escaped from his lips. How was he supposed to defeat Jeremiah, when he was still so hopelessly in love with him. Despite everything he has done to the citizens of Gotham, he couldn’t help loving him. His mind was still brilliant, and his smile still gentle, and his voice still calmed him like nothing else could. With a scream of realization, he threw his phone across the room. It has taken worse from him, and he had a good case, so it didn’t shatter. He wished it would. He wants his phone to feel as broken as he is. Even as the soft sounds of their shared laughter echoed from his from his phone in the cold room. Those memories and videos and pictures just poured salt in his wounds. He wished he could go back to being numb, but Jeremah took that away from him, like he’s taking so many things. Jeremiah taught him how to take time for him. How to put the weight of the world on his shoulders. How to be happy. How to laugh again. How to heal from loss. And how to love.</p>
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